


MODERN CHARACTER IN THEDAS CHALLENGE WEEK ENTRIES

by LonelyAgain



Series: Diary of a Dislocated Knife-ear [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fade Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-31 07:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20111521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyAgain/pseuds/LonelyAgain
Summary: Day 1: Spirit Sunday - CompleteDay 2: Magic Monday = CompleteDay 3: Terrible TuesdayDay 4: Warden WednesdayDay 5: Thirsty ThursdayDay 6: Freaky FridayDay 7: Swooping Saturday





	1. Day 1: Spirit Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Spirit Sunday
> 
> Your MCIT awakens in the fade as a spirit. What kind have they become and how do they handle it?

This was why he preferred the sea. This didn’t happen at sea. Jack, all the Jacks, sighed, looking at their hands. Claws. Tentacles. He was they again. Damn it.

The group of Jack moved in sync. At least he could see in all directions when he was like this. Rage-Jack growled at a wisp moving by, and Compassion-Jack stroked the fiery shoulder. In some ways, it was easier to self-soothe here.

Well, nothing for it. It always took a gods-bedamned long time to wake up when he was like this, and he didn’t like feeling vulnerable. Stubborn-Jack crossed its arms and scanned the environment. Valor-Jack was scraping a whetstone against a sword it had formed.

He was all of them, and he was none of them. Despair-Jack, he was glad to notice, was much smaller than Hope-Jack. And Sloth-Jack had already created a large sitting area for them. Trust Sloth-Jack to want to curl up in comfort instead of anything more strenuous.

Fear-Jack, who preferred Nervous, thank you very much, was also scanning. It wouldn’t be long before the locals realized they were there. Command-Jack started instructing Despair-Jack and Compassion-Jack in fortifying the area.

In the middle, still looking at his hands, was Jack-Prime. All that was left of the human who once sailed too far into the storm, and found himself tossed from his trawler. He closed his almost-eyes with a deep breath, calming himself.

The images of his journey flicked through his mind unbidden. The glowing water he landed in. The feeling of being sucked under, thinking he was drowning. His own screams as his physical form twisted and morphed while being horrifically squeezed. Falling from the sky as a broken and bloody mass of flesh, landing in trees. He winced as he remembered the branches on his way down.

He couldn’t reminisce here. It wasn’t safe. But always, always, when he woke in the fade on land, it split him, and taunted him with how he’d been transported here. He knew it would only last the night, but the night was ever too long on land. He took a shuddering breath, knowing that they would be here soon, and he would be reliving his so-called adventures.

Desire-Jack slipped up behind Jack-Prime. A light hand caressed his hip. “We’re already on land. You could… visit.” He tried to stop himself from wondering who Desire looked like this time. Sweet Bella? He closed his eyes. Please not her again. He didn’t want to face her rejection of his proposal again. Or Desire-Jack trying to ease it by accepting.

Luckily, in some ways, they were spotted. The hand withdrew from Prime, and Valor-Jack set the whetstone down. In this, at least, they were one. Prime had too much that should not be set free in the fade, and his bits knew the dangers. Stubborn-Jack placed it’s hands on Prime’s shoulders. A deep voice, one he wished his waking voice matched, rumbled behind him. “Only since the fall. Everything else hidden?”

Prime nodded. “As usual. What’s coming?”

“Desire. You have spent too much time mooning lately. And Sloth. You have wanted a break.”

“I know.”

“We’ve done this before. For months on end.”

“Don’t tempt us. Not us.”

“She didn’t come, Prime.”

“None of them ever do.” Prime heard a sword strike flesh and winced. “It begins.”

Desire-Jack purred behind him. “You could court them again. They would listen. We could rule them. Such power we have, if we were but to use it.”

“NO! I just want to sail the sea.”

“You keep lying to yourself. It is a weakness. But we will protect you.” The voice turned sly. “SHE does it. Ropes them in, changes them, binds them to her with words and will, as you once did.”

“Maybe she’ll fare better than we did.” Prime opened his eyes. And regretted it.

He saw himself, sitting at the bar in Jaider. An elf he’d retrieved from Tevinter two years ago was drinking with him. “It’s a message,” the man said. “A clue. It could change everything. We could escape the chains, Jackdaw.”

“You think this will free all of us?”

“I think it could. We could rewrite the culture, with everyone as equals.”

He’d been too drunk to realize the man was fibbing. It seemed like such a good idea. “And how am I supposed to deliver this clue?”

“Next time we dock in Tevinter, I could go ashore. They’re searching for something powerful. The Venatori wouldn’t overlook a whispered word. I just need to hint that what they’re looking for is in Ezoire.”

“And the note?”

“It’s been planted in a ruin there. It’ll get to the right people.”

“They’ll see it as a trap.”

“Not when they’re going to have to fight hard. They’ll figure it out, and they’ll have to work for it. It will be well defended.”

“We’re sacrificing people. That’s what you mean.”

“Captain, they want this. If we are to succeed. Something has to change, sir. More are being harmed every day. If we could undo the society? We could save them all. I’d give my life for that.”

“I suppose I would, too. Alright. We’ll sail for Tevinter. Be very careful, Taevin. I won’t be able to hold the ship for you.”

“The leader of the Venatori, this new guy, he’s determined. He’s also reckless. We’ll get it done.”

The scene faded, regret filling Jack-Prime. Taevin hadn’t exactly lied. The Venatori had found whatever it was, and tried to use it. That’s why he had put his ship at the Inquisition’s disposal. That poor boy’s fate was partially Jack’s fault. His sources said that Bella was up at Skyhold as well, doing what she could. Of course, Chrissy was there, too.

He still kind of hoped she didn’t meet Chrissy. Looking back, it was likely a good thing that Bell rejected him. He’d pushed too hard. But he watched her. She had aged. She was still beautiful, still fiery as hell. He knew, looking in the mirror, that he had not. It was for the best that he fled Llormerryn when he did. Before she realized. But Chrissy was different. He’d stake his fleet on it.

He felt another wave of whatever it was that caused this shit here. Valor-Jack took up arms against the incoming demon. Part of him gloried in the fight, watching the expertise and grace of Valor-Jack slice the strange creature to ribbons. Another scene from his past rose, this one from the beginning. Stubborn-Jack was doing well, keeping the memories from earth isolated from this place.

This one was hard. Jack was injured, and laying there unconscious under the tree he’d fallen through. He’d opened his eyes when words he didn’t understand filtered through his consciousness. A ring of spears pointed at his neck.

Jack groaned in pain, unable to move. More words, and then he was poked with the business end of the sharp ass thing. Another pain, another wound, but he was too hurt to scream. Jack-Prime grimaced as he watched himself whimper. It was only after that he’d realized that they had pointy ears. That was the moment he truly feared. Because Earth didn’t have pointy eared people. Not like that.

Thinking he was in Middle Earth, maybe, he tried Quenya. “Órava!” And got nothing resembling understanding. He gave up. “Please, help me.” Hated this part. Seeing himself beg. But they knew English, or at least a little. The spears retreated.

A wiry man with pointed ears spoke. “Who are you? Where did you come from? Is what attacked you nearby?”

Jack chuckled weakly, blood spilling out of his mouth. “Nearby. Fucking tree.” That had them looking up, and one of them pointed out the blood dripping from the branches in places. Bits of Jack left behind. Jack couldn’t even cough, and just laid there.

A few minutes of silence were followed by rustling and multiple new voices. He didn’t even open his eyes. A soothing male voice spoke. “We will take you to the Keeper. She will decide what to do with you.” He was lifted onto a travois pulled by an odd white antelope thing, and whatever it was started moving. He’d lost consciousness on the journey, and the memory faded.

Sloth-Jack sighed with contentment at that scene. “It was so nice to rest after all that frantic activity. We need a wife. I’m tired of doing laundry.” 

Command-Jack bristled. “You do the laundry because it’s the only thing I can get you to do without bloodshed, you lazy sod!”

Sloth-Jack waved a palp at the amorphous blob with arms. “Sez you.”

Desire-Jack slithered behind him again. “There was that one…”

“She’s got that bald guy. And she’s idealistic.”

“Bald guy won’t last forever.”

Rage-Jack growled again. “We could kill him, take her.”

Jack-Prime smiled. “True, but counterproductive.”

Command-Jack made an announcement. “When the bald one passes to the beyond, we will have to offer our shoulder. These flesh things do not live long.”

Jack-Prime shrugged. “Living for longer doesn’t mean she’ll like us.”

Valor-Prime added, “We can woo her if that happens. Perhaps we shan’t like her.”

Desire-Jack opened its big mouth. “We like her. We’ve been exploring ourselves with her in mind, after all.”

“Enough, Desire.”

“Yes, Prime.”

Despair-Jack wailed. “They’re coming again!” Prime sighed. Nights are so incredibly long on shore. The fade wavered again. Another memory, this one of a port in Llomerryn, where a black haired temptress shouted that she could take him.


	2. Day 2: Magic Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Magic Monday
> 
> Magic is meant to serve man, and never to rule over him. Write about your MCIT dealing with magic, good or bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from when Andrew was first starting to play with the idea that he could, indeed, do magic.

He shivered, and she curled closer. “Andrew.” He didn’t respond, but ice crept up the far wall. “Andrew?” She stroked his hair back as he gasped himself awake. 

A bare moment later, his eyes focused. “Gara?”

“Yes. You’re freezing the edges again.” She bit her lip. “Maybe we should tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“You’re having trouble. Maybe she can help?”

“No. It’s me. I just… I’m trying to do things both ways. The Templar way. The mage way. I keep slipping.”

She lifted her face to him. “Vhenan, please.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Something you want, Angel?” She reached to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face, and he pulled back with a smirk. “Words, love. You know I like words.”

“Come on, big guy. Unless you don’t want a kiss?”

He moved closer, brushing her lips gently with his. “There you go,” he murmured against her mouth. “One kiss.”

She made that noise he liked in her throat. Narrowing her gaze, she pushed him down on the sheets. He leaned back, crossing his arms under his head. “I’m fine, Angel.”

She sat up next to him. Watching him. Her finger reached to trace his brow, his nose, and finally the cupid’s bow of his mouth. “Your face is so strange sometimes.” Her fingers trailed over the curve of his ear. “I like your ears.”

“I think that’s my line.” He got an irrepressive grin on his face, and attacked her ribs. Laughing as she gasped for breath between giggles. “Bet you wish I was ticklish.”

“You know, the fastest way to a man’s heart…”

“Between the fourth and fifth ribs, slightly angled up and to the left. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Well, I was going to offer food, but hey, if you’d prefer to be stabbed?”

“Breakfast sounds great.” He reached over for his shirt, cursing when he touched the metal buttons. A slight zap was heard as electricity caressed his fingertips painfully. “Shit!” He dropped it, sticking his fingers in his mouth.

“Breathe, Templar Man.” He closed his eyes. “Did you do your breathing yesterday?”

“I forgot.”

“Maybe you could just be a Templar again for a while? Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”

“If I can do both, I have the benefit of surprise.” He closed his eyes again. “There’s a joy in it, Angel. To feel the air around you tingle, to know that it answers your wish.”

“It sounds dangerous.”

“It’s absolutely dangerous. But the Templar side is more dangerous. I can barely light a candle, but I can render a mage unconscious.”

"Or kill them."

He sighed. "Or kill them."

“Chrissy says there’s no difference. It’s the same, just twisted differently.”

“Maybe for her it is. But for me, it’s not. Two different things. Pushing away, pulling in.”

“You should tell her.”

“It’s fine, Gara.”


End file.
